Strike the Earth!
by ObsidianFlutes
Summary: Here follows an account of Shovel Knight's epic journey, and his quest to rescue his beloved Shield Knight. Cliché, I know, but bear with me - this is my new obsession.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: One Fateful Knight

At first, the bartender had some trouble figuring out why one of the most legendary heroes in the history of the kingdom was drinking himself silly in front of him, but as he served the knight his third tankard of ale, the armored man let out a moan of anguish and dropped his head down on the table, ignoring his drink.

The bartender leaned over towards the man and began cleaning his empty tankards. "What's the matter, sir? Surely a renowned knight such as yourself has other things to be doing than sitting in a tavern."

The knight looked up at him, removing his horned cerulean helmet. He shook out his brown hair and the bartender could see the tears in his grey eyes.

"It's Shield Knight," he moaned, taking a deep swig from his tankard. "My partner... my girlfriend... my betrothed. She's been sealed inside the Tower of Fate..." He trailed off, slumping forward against the bar. The bartender nodded sympathetically as he scrubbed the dishes. "And to top it all off, this Enchantress has brainwashed my two best friends. I just can't take it. Without Shield Knight I'm nothing."

"I'm sure you can do something about it, sir," the bartender said. "I mean, come on! You're _Shovel Knight, _the most decorated hero in the history of King James's reign!"

Shovel Knight snorted and gestured to his weapon, which was leaning precariously against his barstool. A magnificent blade, the same cerulean blue as his armor, the ornate shovel was now caked with dirt and shreds of vegetation. "Look at me. I'm just a bastard wearing a blue tin can and waving a digging tool. How am I going to do something about this?" He hung his head, and a tear dripped into his ale.

The bartender watched the disconsolate knight for a few seconds, then reared back his hand and slapped Shovel Knight in the face. "You snap out of it."

Shovel Knight rubbed the side of his face. "Ow. Snap out of what?"

"Dude, you're in some kind of a funk," drawled a peasant next to him.

"Yeah, man, yer real blue. Or iz- izzat yer armor?" slurred a drunk. He raised his flagon for a second, wavered, then crashed face-first onto the bar with a _thwunk, _ale sloshing from his glass and a thin trickle of saliva dribbling from his mouth.

The bartender stood, picked up the drunk by the scruff of his neck, and threw him out of the bar. "You've had enough."

Shovel Knight shook his head. "It's no use. An usurper has deposed the king, the Tower of Fate is unsealed, and all sorts of evil is over the land. I can't. I just can't. Sometimes I think I should... I don't know... start a farm or something. Dig manure and grow my own crops."

"No," said the peasant. "You can't. Don't you see? Shovel Knight, this is your area of _expertise!_ You _live _for driving out evil! Remember, several years ago, when that huge dragon attacked the kingdom? And you and Shield Knight had it out like _that_," he finished, snapping his fingers. "This is just the kind of thing you_ do_."

"You don't understand," moped Shovel Knight, lifting his shovel onto his lap and brushing dirt clods off its blade. "I can't do it without Shield Knight."

"So do it _for _Shield Knight!" said the peasant, standing up from his barstool. "Come on, Shovel Knight, do it for your friends!"

"For the people!" exclaimed the bartender.

"For old times' sake!" shouted another knight from the far end of the bar.

"For fun!" piped a freckly young squire from a nearby table, and Shovel Knight's morose features broke out into a smile. He laughed, ruffling the squire's hair, and held his shovel blade in the air.

"What's my motto?" he shouted.

"STRIKE THE EARTH!" roared the reply, the customers delighted to hear their hero's motto again. Shovel Knight lifted his shovel in the air and drove it down, fracturing one of the floorboards in his enthusiasm.

Shovel Knight stared at the broken floor for a second, then turned back to the bartender. "You, ah, you might want to fix that."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Rival

Shovel Knight galloped towards Pridemoor Village on his horse, his shovel bouncing in its scabbard. He was going to ask the king for permission to ride out into the kingdom, and defeat the Order of No Quarter.

As he neared the gates of Pridemoor Village, Shovel Knight immediately knew something was amiss. Dismounting the horse, he carefully scanned the horizon for any sign of life - and was appalled at what he saw. Pridemoor Village, usually abuzz with music and loud talking, was completely silent. A few beggars waited on the street corners, waving their cups.

As he was walking through the town square, Shovel Knight heard a familiar voice from a beggar near him.

"Shovel Knight, is that you? Have you really come to save us?" Shovel Knight whipped around to see the speaker. He was a tall, regal-looking figure, with shoulder-length red hair and an impressive mustache. Despite the fact that he had no crown or royal mantle, and was dressed from head to toe in rags, Shovel Knight could see it was...

"King James!" he exclaimed, sweeping off his helmet and performing a deep bow. "What are you doing here on the streets, Sire?"

"Please," said King James sadly, "I'm afraid I'm not the king anymore. You can stop bowing."

"Wait a minute," Shovel Knight said, righting himself. "I heard rumors of an usurper... Has he taken Pridemoor Castle?"

"I'm afraid so," said the deposed king. "Oh, how I hate to see my beloved kingdom in the hands of that impostor King Knight! He's drying up the village funds. My people are hungry and sick. Please, valiant Shovel Knight, you have to save us."

Shovel Knight mounted his horse. "You can count on me, Your Highness," he said, and with a snap of the reins he galloped off toward the castle.

_Later..._

Shovel Knight had made it about halfway to Pridemoor Castle when he heard a gruff voice. "Halt, intruder! What business have ye with the king?" He stopped his horse and looked in front of him. There was a knight in red-and-black armor in front of him, sitting astride a dark-colored stallion. In lieu of a sword, the knight carried a stylized shovel nearly identical to his own.

"Black Knight," he snarled. "Let me through. I am here on the orders of King James."

"Nonsense," scoffed the Black Knight. "He is not the real king."

"Perhaps this is true," Shovel Knight said, dismounting his horse. "But he is still more deserving of Pridemoor Castle's throne than your King Knight."

"James was weak," said the Black Knight dryly. "King Knight and the Order will make the kingdom strong, and when we have accomplished our goals, the Enchantress will become our true queen!"

"The Enchantress? The Order? You never were one to blindly follow, Black Knight."

"My point still stands. Either turn back, Shovel Knight, or face me." The Black Knight dismounted his own horse and drew his shovel blade. "Steel thy shovel!"

Shovel Knight, though a little rusty, was still an excellent fighter and thus, he and the Black Knight were quite evenly matched. Cerulean clashed against scarlet each time their shovels met, the knights' armored feet in constant motion as they sparred. Whenever Shovel Knight attempted to strike, Black Knight was always ready with a counterstrike, and whenever Black Knight's shovel swiped forth, Shovel Knight's blade was held defensively across his chest.

The two knights fought and fenced for an hour before Shovel Knight finally made a swipe that caught his adversary unawares. The Black Knight lost his balance and hit the ground, looking up to find the blue shovel at his throat.

"Let me through to see the king," growled Shovel Knight threateningly, "and I will let you go."

The Black Knight stared up at him with murder in his eyes. "All right," he said, pushing the blade away from his neck and standing up. "Continue due north to Pridemoor. On guard, Shovel Knight. You haven't seen the last of me." With that, the Black Knight mounted his horse and galloped away, leaving only a trail of dust to prove that he had ever been there.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: In the Halls of the Usurper

The sun was beginning to set as Shovel Knight neared Pridemoor Castle, so he tied his horse to a tree, laid a small campfire and drifted off to sleep. However, instead of his normal steady slumber, Shovel Knight found himself in the middle of a fitful dream.

He was standing in a wide clearing, looking up at the sky. His armor shone like new, spotlessly polished in all its glory. It was just like the olden days.

Up in the heavens a red star flickered, twinkled, went out, began to drop from the sky. Shovel Knight focused on it, trying to figure out what it was. It was fire - no, it was a meteor - no, it was none other than Shield Knight. Her red armor shone like a beacon as she plummeted down, down, down.

Shovel Knight tried to run to her, but he was moving too slowly, as if in water - she was close enough that he could see her eyes, wide with terror - he dove, arms outstretched in a last-ditch effort to catch her before she hit the ground - oh no - too slow - he heard her scream -

Sunlight. He awoke with a gasp, sweating, then realized where he was. His horse whinnied impatiently and stamped her hoof on the ground.

Shovel Knight ran his fingers through his hair, settled his helmet on his head, and led the horse to some stables outside the castle. After pressing some coins into the palm of the stable boy, he crossed the drawbridge and made his way into the castle grounds.

Pridemoor Castle was one of the kingdom's greatest feats of architecture. A veritable forest of parapets and turrets, with purple and green flags waving from its grand peaks, the castle was so large and expansive that it seemed like a city in and of itself. In fact, the outskirts of the castle were home to a diverse assortment of vassals, peasants and low-ranking nobility. Of course, at least they _had_ been; the demure cottages and and palace quarters had since been vacated when King Knight had come to power. The rest of the castle was equally beautiful, though; entire sections were open to the sky, with the occasional golden fountain. Ornate chandeliers decorated the ceilings and soft red carpets covered the floor.

Shovel Knight knew; back when he and his friends were young pages, they had lived in and around this castle. As squires, they had begun exploring further, until the one great day when he, Terra, Eryn, and Björn had come to the very core of Pridemoor Castle, to the throne room. There, King James had tapped them on the shoulders with his sword, naming them knights of the kingdom, with great festivity and celebration.

That had been the happiest moment of Shovel Knight's life, and as he walked through the familiar halls of Pridemoor Castle, he smiled, awash in pleasant memories of days gone by.

An armored knight guarded the doors to the throne room, drawing his sword as Shovel Knight came near. "Halt. Step no further lest ye anger the mighty King Knight!"

"It can't be," Shovel Knight said incredulously. "Sir Tristan... Why... how... don't you recognize me? It's me, Shovel Knight. I was your squire?"

Sir Tristan shook his head. "Sorry, kid," he said to Shovel Knight, sheathing his sword. "If you want to see King Knight, then he's just behind the door. But I seriously can't remember having you as a squire."

He grabbed a door handle and pulled, revealing the throne room inside. As Shovel Knight passed into the sanctum, he saw that Sir Tristan wore an amulet around his neck, decorated with a purple eye... and it seemed to be... _glowing?_

His thoughts were interrupted by a deep baritone voice from the far end of the throne room. "What's this? Guards! An interloper is in our midst!" Shovel Knight looked up. Sitting on King James's throne was a tall, regal-looking knight wearing shining gold armor and a rich red mantle on his shoulders. Atop his head was James's gold crown, and at his feet were two enormous black boarhounds.

Shovel Knight gestured to the beasts. "Fine dogs you have there."

King Knight glanced appreciatively down at the massive animals. "Yes. They are, indeed, the finest hunting hounds in the kingdom. King James had good taste - he left me the most beautiful furnishings, the best horses, his entire castle."

"You mean you _took _them from him," Shovel Knight said angrily.

"Now, now," King Knight said, shaking his scepter. "Let's not argue semantics. Of course, we all know what happens when you argue with the king..." As an afterthought, he reached down and stroked one of the hounds. The dog growled deep in his throat, his hackles rising.

"You're no king. You're a tyrant. And tyrants will not stand," Shovel Knight shouted across the throne room, drawing his shovel.

King Knight shook his head. "Tut, tut. Such a temper! Is this a challenge?"

"It is indeed."

"Well, then," said the impostor, rising from his throne. "We'll have a little duel, you and I. If I win, you may have a little chat with my hounds." The hounds' growls evolved into barks and howls that chilled Shovel Knight's blood.

"And if I win?" he asked softly.

King Knight shrugged. "In accordance with the code of chivalry, I'll acknowledge defeat and relinquish the palace, and everything therein, back to its previous owner. But that won't happen, of course," he added. He clucked his tongue once - Shovel Knight could hear it echo slightly inside his helmet - and faster than he could react, King James's prized hunting hounds leaped forth from their position at King Knight's feet, claws outstretched, showing their blazing red eyes and mouths packed with razor-sharp teeth. They closed in upon Shovel Knight, an evil wall of fur and muscle.

"Aw, hell," Shovel Knight cursed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Triumph

Shovel Knight drew his blade, uneasily watching the massive hunting hounds. Low, threatening growls issued from their throats as they stalked their prey, their dark eyes red with anticipation and bloodlust. Shovel Knight knew he had to think on his feet before the great black beasts went in for the kill.

_Just my luck,_ he thought. _I'm no good at thinking on the go. Especially when I'm being watched by evil hound eyes._ Then, all of a sudden, he remembered an incident that had happened, here in this very castle, when he and his friends were squires.

_Terra had been huddled in the corner, whimpering with fear. Standing before her, foaming at the mouth and emitting a ferocious growl, was a mangy gray excuse for a wolfhound, its eyes wild with madness and its fur matted and dirty. Benjamin knew the dog - it belonged to Eryn's family - but now it was angrier than he had ever seen it before. Moving slowly, his eyes to the ground, Benjamin carefully stepped in front of the dog and lifted Terra out of harm's way, turning her blond head to the side so she couldn't look into the wolfhound's eyes. The dog did not avert his eyes from Terra as Benjamin carried her away._

_As he came to the shelter of a nearby tree, Terra gave a hiccuping sob and buried her head in his shoulder._

_"I... I couldn't do it," she said, her speech fragmented. "I knew I had to look away, but I just couldn't... I couldn't." Her voice broke again, and a fresh wave of tears cascaded down her face, soaking the shoulder of Benjamin's tunic. Rubbing her back, he set her down under the tree. It was the largest tree in the castle grounds, the special meeting place of the four squires. Benjamin knelt and sat down next to her, stroking her hair._

_Terra hiccuped again and turned to look over at him, her eyes shimmering through a film of tears. She leaned forward and kissed him, quickly, on the cheek. Then she turned away, hugging her knees. After a few seconds, she stood and ran towards the castle, her blond hair streaming behind her._

Shovel Knight blinked, shook his head, and jolted back to reality. The dogs circled him, their eyes blazing.

He grinned, reached into his pack, and threw some meat to the dogs, ignoring them and rushing towards the throne. The hounds instantly fell upon the food, deciding then and there that the funny blue man was their new master. King Knight had barely enough time to register surprise when Shovel Knight was almost upon him.

The impostor raised himself up and lifted his scepter, ready to spar. However, his adversary had different ideas.

At the last second, Shovel Knight leaped into the air, the blade of his shovel pointed downwards. There was a sound of metal on metal as the blade collided with King Knight's helmet, knocking the royal crown from his head and forming a nasty dent. Shovel Knight landed neatly on his feet, while King Knight was sent flying, only to land in a most non-regal heap of gold and red cloth.

Shovel Knight stood over his defeated opponent, staring down at him. "Give Pridemoor back to the rightful king," he snarled.

Using his scepter for support, King Knight slowly pulled himself to his feet. "In accordance with the code of chivalry, I shall keep my promise," he grumbled, obviously puzzled and angry that he had lost.

"Very well," Shovel Knight replied, bowing respectfully. Then he turned on his heel and left. But before he left the throne room, he noticed the same glowing amulet strung around King Knight's neck...


End file.
